


An Angel and His Hunter

by GillyWatson



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-28
Updated: 2014-02-02
Packaged: 2018-01-10 07:41:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1156932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GillyWatson/pseuds/GillyWatson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is extremely confused by a new sort of feeling that he can't seem to give a proper title. Meanwhile Dean is having the same issue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. So Its Begun

Dean laid in the motel bed with his eyes closed, tears streaming out silently. On the floor beside his bed rests an empty beer bottle and his shoes. Nothing particularly crazy has happened lately, but he was still tired. Tired of all of the pain and insanity he goes through nearly every day. He would never let Sammy know he had cried, it would only make it worse. Sam would just bother him about, always ask if he was okay.   
Castiel appeared in the room making no noise. He saw Dean with tears and tilted his head. Is that an emotion? It seems as if Dean is feeling sadness. There was a small tug at Castiel's heart. And what was that? Was that also sadness? No. I feel nothing. But still, Cas walked over staring longingly at Dean. He used his thumb to wipe a tear from Dean's cheek and immediately disappeared. Dean jumped up and grabbed his gun from under his pillow and pointed it around the room.  
"Good to know I can count on you waking up during an emergency," Dean whispered looking at Sam who was still sleeping in the bed across the motel room. He slipped his gun away and decided he'd try to fall asleep.  
The next morning the two brothers woke up to Cas pacing around the room.  
"Good. You're awake. Something's happened," Castiel stopped moving and looked at them with his usual blank expression.   
"What is it?" Sam drowsily muttered.  
"Dean would you like to tell us what's happened?" Castiel said looking at Dean.  
"What? Me? How would I know?" He was baffled at the assumption.  
"I saw you having an emotion last night. Which could only be the result of an important event. Am I wrong?" Cas asked casually.   
"Um yeah Cas! You kinda are!" Dean grabbed Castiel's arm and dragged him to the side. Sam shrugged and fell back into bed, dozing off almost immediately.   
"Wrong? I had researched the water streaming from your eyes as soon as I left. Those things called tears, they often come from some sort of sadness. You don't appear to usually feel sadness, meaning something must have happened to create that water flowing from your eyes," Castiel spoke as if all of those words were simply facts that shouldn't be cared about, and to him that's what they were. At least that's what he thought they were to him.  
The thing is, when he researched Dean's tears he also tried to research that tug he felt in his chest. But everything he found led him to the possibility of emotion which he didn't believe he was capable of having.   
"Cas, something is always happening. There's nothing wrong, though. Nothing that can be fixed, anyways."   
"I don't understand," Cas said with confused eyes but a blank face. Dean looked at Sam who was asleep in bed and sighed. He ushered Cas outside and closed the door behind them.   
"My life is a living hell, every week there's a new monster to take care of. Leaving every week with a new sort of evil that wants to kill me. And you know what? I get tired of it. I am tired of it. But that's nothing that concerns you or Sam," this was a rare time, Dean admitting to his exhaustion, but Castiel didn't consider himself lucky to actually be told these things. Although he did feel that tug again. This concerned him. He placed his hand on his chest with a confused look on his face.  
"Cas what are you-?" Dean didn't have the chance to finish his question before Castiel poofed off. Dean gave a frustrated sigh and went back into the motel room and crawled into his mediocre bed.   
Castiel was in the library of the university a town away, trying to figure out what was going on. He wouldn't bother looking through religious books because he felt like most of the books mortals had about the angels were wrong. So he scanned and read through practically every related book in the library and there were only two possibilities. Either his vessel was having heart problems, which was highly unlikely because it would simply repair itself, or he was having emotions, which was also unlikely. At least he thought it was. Isn't it? Why would those...things be occurring anyways? He thought to himself. He set down a book and rubbed his eyes, frustrated. I'm frustrated. I'm frustrated? Does..does that count as an emotion? Oh dear God what is happening?  
Dean was in bed, wide awake, he barely ever got the chance to sleep so he figured he didn't need much. He stood up, put on his shoes and jacket, grabbed his keys, and walked to the Impala. He drove off to a local diner to pick up some food, and he hoped that there would be pie as well. While in the diner Dean ordered a double cheeseburger for himself and a hotdog for Sammy. He tried not to get too excited when he saw there was pie on the menu.  
"Oh and I'll have a cherry pie, too, please. And can I get that to go?" He said to the lady at the counter. His head couldn't help but turn when a waitress walked by. He gave the tall ginger a wink as she walked passed, but it didn't quite feel the same. It had been like that a lot lately for him, he couldn't seem to figure out why, though. So he dismissed it, it's not like it's anything important. It couldn't be, could it? He thought and snapped out of when the waitress passed him his food.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean set the bag of goods on the passenger seat and drove over to the gas station to fill up his baby and get a six pack of beer. Once he obtained these needs he went back to the motel.

"I have brought food! But the pie is mine," he said to Sam who was on his laptop. 

"Thanks," Sam sat down across from Dean at the motel's poor excuse of a table. He took out his hotdog and cracked open his beer. Dean took a big bite of his double cheeseburger and a splash of grease began to roll down his chin.

“This is delicious,” he managed to spit out with a mouth full of cheese and meat. Sam had a slightly disgusted look on his face.

“Want to try,” Dean shoved the burger in Sam’s face.

“No, no I think I’m good,” Sam scooted his chair back an inch or two. 

Good, I wouldn’t give you some anyways,” he had taken another large bite and he grinned revealing more cheesy red meat. Sam gave another disgusted look and set down his hotdog, Dean laughed and took another bite after choking down the one he flashed at Sam. The taller brother stood up and picked up his laptop off the bed and brought it over to the lousy table.

“Anyways, I think there’s a job just a few towns away. Five teenage girls have disappeared, all were last seen alive at a place they snuck out to, you know like a boyfriend’s house or a party or something,” Sam turned his computer to show Dean the police reports.

“And how do we know it’s not just some psycho serial killer who has a thing for rebellious chicks?” Dean asked with a mouth full of his last bite of burger.

“Well all girls were found in local clubs, hanging from the ceiling, with most organs ripped out and replaced by plastic fake ones,” Sam pointed out.

“Still, couldn’t it be some crazy dude trying to make a point, you know? I mean if these girls were sneaking out then maybe someone decided to teach them a lesson?”

“Yes but a weird plasmatic substance was found just outside each of the clubs these girls were ‘hidden’ in,” Sam objected. 

“So you think we’re looking at an angry spirit?” Dean began to take out his pie.

“Yeah, actually while you were out I began researching any possible deaths that could result in a spirit that would kill like this, and I found that about 60 years ago a young girl was convinced by her peers to sneak out to a party, where she died. The girls that were at the party said that they had nothing to do with it. But I seem to think differently,” Sam said reading off of his computer.

“And the fake body parts?” he tried not to spit as he spoke with his mouthful of pie.

“Well apparently a few of these girls got some work done,” he mumbled a bit concerned about high school girls getting plastic surgery. 

“Alright sounds good to me. Should we start packing it up?” Dean asked as if they had anything to pack up.

“No you shouldn’t,” Castiel appeared in the room.

“Jesus Cas, stop frickin scaring me like that,” Dean threatened looking up from his pie. Castiel looked at him with a confused expression. “So why shouldn’t we go after this case?” he questioned.

“Because, it is a dangerous spirit.”

“Yeah I think we got that from the plasma thanks,” Dean sassed Cas and Sam just tried to avoid getting involved in the petty and slightly flirtatious argument. 

“I mean,” Cas snapped, “that this spirit is on Heaven’s most wanted list. She is rogue. She didn’t die 60 years ago, Sam, she died 60 centuries ago,” he argued looking at Sam for a moment then back at Dean. 

“Well then come with us? It’s not like we can’t help,” Dean looked down for just a moment for another bite of pie then faced back up to Cas, still chewing the baked cherry goodness. 

“No, it’s too risky. Me and some other angels will take care of it. We do thank you for your help in locating the spirit,” Cas tried to stress these words to the brothers. Honestly, he knew that they could handle it, he just didn’t like the possibility of Dean getting injured or killed hunting the spirit down. Dean stood up and spoke merely a second before Castiel poofed off.

“I think we can decide that for ourselves, thanks,” he disagreed, for some reason he felt the need to prove himself to Cas. Maybe it’s just cause he’s an angel, maybe they just give off this..thing to make you do your work for them better, he thought to himself. Cas took a step closer to Dean and peered into his eyes.

“Because,” was all Castiel said before disappearing. Dean stood up and went to the bathroom picking up his tooth brush and then putting it in his bag at the side of the bed.

“Come on Sammy, let’s go kill that crazy son of a bitch,” he picked up his pie, scrambled down a few more bites and then threw the aluminum pan away. 

“But I thought Cas said that we couldn’t work on the case?” Sam stared at Dean a little hazed but wasn’t bewildered at the fact Dean wasn’t obeying. 

“Yeah and i’m saying screw Cas,” he barked at Sam, picking up his bag and the keys to the Impala. Sam shrugged and took a few bites of his hotdog and a swing of his bear before standing up and retrieving his stuff. He followed Dean out to the Impala with one hand in his jacket pocket the other he used to keep his bag slung over his shoulder. They were in South Dakota so the road was icy and their breath was visible as they walked over to the beloved ‘67 Chevy Impala. There was no discussion about seats in the car, they hopped in their normal spots, Dean in the driver’s seat and Sam in the passenger’s. Once they were in they threw their bags into the backseat, and before Dean could finish turning the keys they heard a serious voice say, “Ow.”

“Cas?!” Dean turned around to see their friend the angel sitting in the back seat.

“If you don’t mind me asking, Dean,” he leaned in closer and faced the oldest Winchester, “where are you going?” he asked obviously knowing the answer. 

“I am going to go catch an angry spirit. But, shush, I don’t need any input,” Dean hissed at the angel. Castiel was a little put back, hurt? Do I feel hurt? he asked himself before poofing out of the car. Dean felt it too, I guess that was a bit harsh...but that was the only way to do it if I’m planning catching this nasty dead chica. He still felt bad, even after giving that argument to himself, as always, though, he dismissed the feeling. He turned the keys and began driving off, Sam sat silently beside him, not willing to say anything. 

“Well?” Dean said sternly, looking at the road ahead.

“What?” Sam turned his head to his brother.

“What you’re thinking, damn it!” he rumbled looking at his little brother, why is he so frickin tall and annoying. Frickin puppy eyes. 

“Um, I just think you were a little hard on Cas, is all. I mean, maybe he had a reason for not wanting us to go check out this ghost?” Sam tried to explain.

“Yeah doubt it. Those angels are always lying to us, they just want that evil bitch to themselves,” he was subconsciously masking his guilt with anger. 

“If you say so,” Sam turned to the windshield to watch the frozen world zoom by them. 

“‘If I say so’! What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he tightly gripped the steering wheel. Just shut up Sam, he thought even though he’d get mad no matter what Sam did. Why don’t you take your perfect little self and run away with perfect Castiel. Did I just call Castiel perfect? No Sam cannot run off with Cas! He’s mine. Wait what? Sam turned himself to Dean.

Man, are you okay? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost, well. You know what I mean,” it was a silly expression for him to use considering the fact they see ghosts practically every other week or so. 

Meanwhile Castiel was in the street trying to figure out if he was going to head to the library or bar. He decided on the bar.

“I’ll have a 190 Everclear,” he said to the bartender as he slouched down into a seat at the bar. For a moment the man at the other side of the counter gave him a questioning look, Castiel just nodded, letting the man know he was aware of the beverage he just ordered. Cas sat in silence as the man prepared him a small glass of alcohol. When the glass slid over to him he picked it up and chucked it down in no more than two gulps.

“Another,” Cas demanded slamming the glass down on the wooden bar.

“Look man, we all have a bad days, but I really recommend that you don’t order another one of those,” the bartender urged Cas. The broken angel read the man’s name tag.

“Listen, Brady, I’m pretty sure I can handle several more and i’m just asking for one other. So I appreciate the advice, but i’ll have that drink, thanks,” Cas stared sternly at Brady. He sighed and prepared the beverage for Cas. While he was doing that Castiel tugged at and loosened his tie. 

“No more Everclear after this one, buddy,” the middle-aged man spat out bitterly, handing Cas the glass. He took it and chugged it down immediately and forcefully set the empty glass down. “I’ll take a Blanton’s Whiskey.” 

“Ice?” Brady asked blantly. Cas nodded staring down at the counter, he only looked back up to pick up his glass and take a gulp, the drink tingled and sparked with flavor. A single drop rested on his lower lip as he faced back down at the bar, he quickly slid his tongue out to lick it off.

“I do not seem to know any more,” Cas mumbled as he picked up his glass and then took a sip of his drink. 

“What was that?” the bartender asked as he cleaned off a bottle. 

“Hm?” the angel brought his head up, “Oh, nothing...Just speaking to myself,” his head fell back down, the thoughts spinning around in it made it heavy to keep up. 

Back in the Impala, Dean was worrying about his own thoughts, and the phrase Sam used. 

“Good job, because it’s not like we see ghosts almost everyday or anything,” he joked sarcastically, trying to pull himself together.

“Sorry, you looked...strange. Put off?” Sam was trying to find the proper word for the way his older brother had looked moments ago.

“No Sam, I’m fine! Why don’t you keep an eye on the road and make sure I’m heading in the right direction? How about that Mr. Know It All?” Dean was angry and frustrated but he couldn’t figure out why. Several hours later Cas was still at the bar and the brother’s arrived to their motel.

“So first thing tomorrow we’ll head out to the coroner's and check out the bodies?” Dean asked setting down his bag after the long car ride which remained silent after their argument.

“Yeah, sure,” Sam dropped his bag on the floor and collapsed onto the bed. He fell fast asleep during the car ride over and planned to do the same in bed. Sam crawled under the thin, cheap motel blankets and dozed off almost immediately. Dean debated with himself on whether he would brush his teeth or drink a beer, we’ve got the four left from that pack, and I won’t be falling asleep any time soon anyways, and that was the end of that argument. He grabbed the what was left of the six pack from the car and popped open a beer. It wasn’t cold or refreshing as the drink dropped down his throat, but the bitter taste was still somewhat satisfying. After silently walking around the dark motel room with his beer for a few minutes, Dean brought the pack over to the bed laid down, setting the beer on the floor under him. For a while he sat up, drinking his second bottle, he simply thought, although I guess not so simply. His mind raced, Joe and Hellen...they’re dead because of me. Dad, he gave up his life for me. Castiel has died for me several time, and all times he never knew he would be coming back. Oh Cas. What if he doesn’t come back one time? Or what if Bobby...or Sam? They’ll all end up dead one day and it will be because of me. Hell. It’s my fault Sam doesn’t have the life he wanted. Thoughts like these are what spun around his head for what became hours. After all the long minutes of drinking and thinking he ended up laying down, the same way he was the other night. Facing away from Sammy, a few tears rolling down his cheek, and the empty bottle of the last beer in the pack was on the floor. Castiel could swear he heard Dean calling him a few times so he went to go check it out, and when he appeared in the motel room he was both puzzled and hurt to see Dean the way he was the previous night. As Dean silently cried out his guilt and confusion while practically hanging off the bed, Cas found an extra blanket and slowly, and reluctantly, placed it on top of Dean. The crying alcoholic jumped up and stopped crying, although he still had tears on his cheek. 

“Cas? What are you...what are you doing here?” he slurred his words, not necessarily because he had a few beers, but because he was confused and embarrassed.  
“I thought I heard you calling me. The blanket was supposed to be a gesture of kindness,” he tried to explain hoping he hadn’t done anything wrong. Dean had the blanket wrapped around him and blushed a bit. Dean realized he had thought of Cas’ name a several times during the past two hours and became even more embarrassed. After doing several hours of research Castiel understood the signs of human embarrassment and supposed that was what Dean was feeling. Unaware of what to do, he just did what the human part of him felt like what was right. He walked over at a downtempo to Dean, and sat down on the bed directly in front of him. He did what he did the previous night, wiped away the tears from the hunter’s cheeks. Dean’s face turned pink and he stared at Cas, blind to what to do.


End file.
